Curfew
by SpockEatsCake2
Summary: Canada stays out past curfew. Somebody is waiting for him...


Canada shut the front door behind him, quietly kicking off his shoes and tiptoeing down the hall, past the living room. He knew he was way past curfew, but it's not like anyone would notice him. Still, he wanted to be careful-

_Click._

A lamp in the living room turned on as he walked past, and there sat America in the great armchair across from the television, his head propped up by a fist against his temple, his elbow leaning on the armrest. Despite everything, America was still up waiting for him, and the frown on his brow told Canada he wasn't happy. Mattie gave his brother a small smile. "Eh...hi," he said quietly.

"Hey. You know it's one in the morning, Canada." America still didn't look pleased, which was unusual for him. Canada had even been half-expecting America to either be asleep or be waiting here to congratulate him. After all, this was the first time he'd gone out on a date that _wasn't _in his own country.

"Um...I'm just gonna..." As he tried to discreetly move across the entranceway towards the stairs, America sat up straight. "Nu-uh, just a sec, Matthew." _Matthew. Oh great, now I'm in trouble... _Canada thought, standing still.

America watched him for a moment before he said, "Look, I'm your bro, but I'm not England or France. So I really can't do anything about this except tell you to be more careful. I mean, you were in Ukraine's country, you should have at least called and told me you would be hours late."

While America talked, Canada hung his head and nodded, not saying anything. This was how he got through a lot of situations: keeping quiet and pretending to agree with everything. It worked most of the time, but America saw through it. "Matt, look at me." When Canada lifted his head, his brother wasn't frowning anymore. He smiled at him. "Hey, I hope you had fun, at least."

He nodded, smiling slightly. "Y-yeah, I did..."

"How's Ukraine doing, anyway?"

"Um, pretty good. Her economy is doing okay, and she seems pretty happy."

"That's good, at least she's okay. And you're okay, too?"

"Mm-hm. S-Sorry I kept you up waiting." He knew it wasn't really his fault, but he still felt he needed to apologize.

America shrugged and smiled. "It's okay. Just call next time, yeah? I know you were having fun, but I was getting a little worried, you know, and worrying isn't really my thing, haha."

Matt smiled a little more, glad his brother understood. "Y-Yeah, I will. Thanks, Al. Um, y-you won't say anything to...?"

The American shook his head, standing up. "Nah, they'll never know a thing." He walked over to his brother, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You should consider yourself lucky that they didn't catch you before I did! Otherwise, you'd be toast."

Canada nodded, smiling. "Ahaha, yeah, I would be. Should we get to bed, now..?"

"Yeah. Let's go up before they hear us." America turned the lamp off again, and they both treaded stealthily up the stairs, heading for their separate rooms, shutting the doors quietly and slipping into their beds. Canada pulled off his sweatshirt and jeans, and Kumajirou snuggled into bed next to him under the covers. He sighed and laced his fingers behind his head, looking up at the ceiling.

Alfred was annoying, true, but he was still a pretty good brother sometimes. Even when he forgot about him on occasion, he still made up for it by showing him as much kindness as was possible for him, which may not have been much, but Matthew knew he tried. Yawning, he shut his eyes, letting his thoughts roam for a moment before he drifted off to sleep.

What neither of them knew was that behind the door on the second floor, the one that led to an even bigger bedroom, Francis Bonnefoy had his ear to the door, listening intently as the other nation in the bed behind him slept on, undisturbed. He had been waiting up for the same reason America had, though he kept it secret from the younger nation. His ears weren't as delicate as they used to be, but he managed to catch the majority of the conversation. Smiling to himself, he nodded with approval, chuckling quietly, whispering, "Zat is my little Matthieu…" With that, he quietly slipped back into the bed, and the house fell silent, waiting for dawn to come.


End file.
